


Just for

by Kujaku



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-27
Updated: 2010-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kujaku/pseuds/Kujaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rated for some graphic scenes and some language... Schwartzcentric and Schucentric later: One of Schu's nightmares comes back to haunt him...what's Farfy to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The man was sitting in the airport lobby, waiting for the pasengers to come through the gate. He looked casual enough, but underneath he was jittery, keeping a close eye out for the people he was looking for. Kritiker had been informed weeks beforehand that Eszett would soon make its move, and all available agents had been given one simple misson : be on the lookout for any Eszett agents arriving in Japan. No-one knew quite what Eszett was planning, but seen the increasing actions the group was taking, it boded something big. Eszett had been lying quite low for the past years, so something very important was afoot, perhaps even the ressurection of their Leader...

At last, the plane was announced, and the Kritiker agent put the book he was pretending to read back onto the chair and waited. Soon enough, there was the man of the photo, surrounded by his bodyguards. They disappeared into the heart of the airport towards the exits, and the agent slipped into a corner, taking his cell phone; he was just about to dial Kritiker headquarters, when he slumped onto the floor like a stringless puppet.

No-one saw the crimson flow from under him, nor the spectacled man in an impeccable cream suit put the gun back into his pocket and walk away, a slight smile on his face, before getting into a dark car and driving off.

The car drove for a while, from the Narita airport to the busy Tokyo suburb; it drove towards the Parliament buildings and parked. As Crawford started to get out of his car, his cell phone started to ring, the most annoying, ear-splitting tone, and Crawford almost jumped. Who had played around with his phone? Easy question, easy answer... He couldn't See everything, after all...He took his phone and answered in his sourest voice.

\- Schuldig.

\- How are you doing, fearless leader? came the German's nasal voice.

Even through the phone, Crawford could easily guess that the German was wearing his usual annoying grin.

\- What about your target?

\- And I love you too...

\- Schuldig!

\- You really should get that stick out of your arse, Brad... And yes, the target is dead, dead and dead. Anything else, or can I go and get laid?

\- Yes there is, so no, you can't. Nagi's sending you the details by e-mail. Where's Farfarello?

\- I'm not his keeper Brad... _Okay_ , don't go critical on me! Farfy's somewhere around, probably ripping our target's throat out...I'll bring him back with me after the next job.

\- Fine. Be back before tomorrow morning, Mr Takatori wants to talk to all of us.

And Crawford hung up. He had a meeting with their employer in a minute, and the last thing he had needed before that was a reminder that Schuldig even existed. And of _course_ he knew he drove Crawford nuts, that was the whole point.

 

ooOOoo

 

Schuldig smirked and walked back into the alleyway where Farfarello was finishing their mission. At the telepath's approach, he looked up, splatters of blood everywhere.

\- Don't take too long Farfy...we haven't finished yet. Brad's sent us on another mission.

\- You don't seem very happy about it..., remarked Farfarello, slowly flaying the fortunately dead ex-Kritiker agent's face.

Schuldig sighed and sat down on a garbage-can, taking care not to stain his clothes.

\- Two choice activities on a Saturday night : go and get drunk, stoned, laid or all three, or kill people who aren't even worth the effort...I have to walk around all of Tokyo, in these clothes that I haven't taken off since last night, waiting for a idiotic agent to show the end of his nose and not even notice that he's been followed for the last ten minutes, and, to crown it all, I get to walk around with _you_.

Farfarello looked at Schuldig, and noticed the slight grin on the German's face.

\- What does that imply?

\- I was just thinking about that poor agent you've just flayed... What do you do to people who _annoy_ you? And I'm not talking about God or sister Ruth...

\- I don't know... No-one's ever really annoyed me before. My revenge against God is not just for me, it is for all those who have believed in him. As for Sister Ruth...she was just unfinished business. The only person who may have annoyed me since is _you_.

Schuldig laughed at that, and opened the door to his car. Farfarello smiled, a lopsided grin, and got in next to the telepath as the car sped off.

 

ooOOoo

 

Crawford arrived at Takatori's office and waited. There was no need to hurry, after all, this was going to be another of those completely meaningless meetings, in which Takatori believed he was giving orders, instead of comprehending that he was just blindly following Eszett's plans. For the time being, Takatori had been in phase with the leaders, but Crawford knew what would happen, he had Seen it.

Where was the harm in playing subordinates to this man, who would be dead in a few weeks time? Schwartz was playing a higher game, this poor idiot wouldn't stand in their way, and what was even funnier, was that they wouldn't even have to kill him themselves, no matter how much certain members of Schwartz wanted to. They would just let the Weiß take care of it...

The door opened, and Takatori's secretary motionned Crawford inside, and closed the door behind him. Reiji Takatori was sitting behind his desk, looking as self-satisfied as humanly possible and possibly more than stupid. Crawford sighed inwardly and waited for his employer to speak.

\- Ah, Crawford. I've been waiting to see you.

\- Is there anything wrong, Mr Takatori?

\- I demand to know what your group is doing to erradicate the Kritiker menace to our plan!

\- Certainly Mr Takatori. _Our plan_...noted Crawford.

\- As we speak, we are finishing the erradication of those located.

\- Those located? My orders were to eliminate all Kritiker agents! I will not be satisfied with poor results!

\- I shall give orders to multiply searches.

\- Good. I'm counting on you Crawford.

\- Very well Mr Takatori.

Crawford closed the door and walked back towards his car, sighing inwardly. Takatori was an idiot, and Nagi would be thrilled to have to spend even more hours in front of his computer, finding information to satisfy him... Of course, if Schuldig was high enough he might be encouraged to lend a hand, but nothing was less sure. Crawford looked at his watch; it was just gone eleven, Nagi would still be awake and probably typing away. He dialed their flat's number, and sure enough, after two rings, Nagi answered. Crawford briefly explained the situation, ignoring the irritated silences, and put the phone down, starting his way back to their appartment.

 

ooOOoo

 

On the other side of Tokyo, a figure was hurrying back towards his flat, glancing nervously around. He'd been waiting all day and at last he had located a group of Eszett agents. He'd reported to Kritiker headquarters, and now, he was waiting for another agent to come and pick him up.

He didn't notice the car parked in the small road and hurried to his front door, taking care to scan the area. No-one in sight. He opened the door and went inside, closing the door behind him...but not fast enough to stop the boot from jamming itself in the opening.

\- Knock knock...who's there...came Schuldig's voice, as Farfarello kicked the door open on the surprised Kritker agent.

\- Who...who are you?

That only caused Schuldig to grin wider and both Schwartz entered the flat.

\- Who are we? We're your executionners...any other questions?

The Kritiker agent swiftly pulled a gun out of his pocket, but Farfarello leaped forward and slashed it out of his hand.

\- Want to fight us do you? Please do, it makes so much more amusing...grinned the telepath, leaning against the wall.

\- Kill me if you want Schwartz, but Kritiker will stop your plans!

\- Thank you for those completely useless last words... Farfy? He's all yours, but try and hurry up... I'm dying for a drink.

The Irishman pulled another knife out and advanced on the doomed agent and Schuldig helped himself to the contents of the flat's fridge while screams echoed around him. Switching the television on, he watched for a few seconds, drinking the beer he'd found, before bursting out in laughter.

\- They've found your handiwork Farfy... Strangely enough, no-one can identify him.

\- Surprising..., came Farfarello's voice from the entrance.

\- Wow, you actually ripped his teeth out? That's evil.

\- As if you weren't doing anything...his mind tasted like honey, right?

\- If only you knew... Ah...apparently you're a serial killer, with deep megalomaniac tendancies...and you didn't tell me you were a frustrated virgin.

\- I hadn't noticed either.

An agonising yell finishing in a bubbly sound made Schuldig wince, and he went to see what Farfarello was doing to the Kritiker agent.

\- Farfy, when I said hurry up, I didn't mean...oh well, never mind.

The entrance was covered in blood, trickling down the walls and coating the floor; in the middle of it all, the dead man was an unrecognisable pile of clothes and meat and Farfarello was standing over him, his own clothes crimson red.

\- You should get cleaned up Farfy, we might attract a little attention if we go out like that.

Farfarello nodded and walked towards the bathroom, his boots leaving little bloody traces as he went. Schuldig stared a little longer at the corpse before walking towards the bedroom. They were going out for a drink after all, and no amount of soap would take the bloodstains off Farfarello's clothes. In the wardrobe, Schuldig rumaged and searched inside the pile of clothes strewn around. It was quite amazing really, this man actually had good taste... Where on earth had he found the money and the time to go and shop? And for Armani no less? Although Armani was rather old style... _Yôji Yamamoto_! A Kritiker agent actually had that kind of money? Then again...the Weiss certainly had enough of their own...

The shower stopped and Farfarello came out, still half dripping wet, and stood in the doorway looking at the pile laid out on the bed. And then he noticed Schuldig sitting in front of the television and waiting for him.

\- You didn't expect me to go out dressed like I was, did you? What do you think?

The telepath had managed to come up with a pair of red pants and a loose white satin shirt; Farfarello looked longly at his companion, and Schuldig couldn't help himself from grinning.

\- Looks like you like it...hurry up and get ready! I'm dying for a drink! I hope you like what I found...it should be your style.

Farfarello started to dress, eyebrow shooting up as he saw what he was putting on. Tight black hipsters, dark blue crop-top and a dog-collar... Schuldig came over and nodded at the sight of Farfarello in figure-hugging material.

\- So, what do you think? I know I'm getting horny just looking at you.

\- You get horny looking at most things..., smiled the Irishman.

\- _Ja_ , but most of the time, I'm looking at you... Right, shall we get going?

And a few seconds later, a car sped off, leaving the flat in a burning pyre.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and before I get too many confused people asking me this question, *my* version of Schuldig is the manga version, with that gorgeous green hair and red eyes. As much as I adore anime!Schu, manga!Schu is just a teeniest bit more freaky...^^

Crawford had arrived for a while back at their flat, and was reading when Nagi walked into the living-room holding a piece of paper.

\- This is all I could find. Most of the Kritiker agents in Japan are abroad, except those already dead, and there's no word of many coming back into the country before a while.

\- How many are left here?

\- Ten, probably less.

\- I'll have the others take care of that as soon as they come back. But they'll have to do it slightly more _discreetly_...

\- You saw the news as well? Farfarello tends to like his work a bit too much... sighed the teenager.

\- No matter, as long as he gets the job done. Well, we'll have to get Mr Takatori to understand that there's no point in hunting agents that aren't in the country.

\- Good luck for tomorrow's meeting. I've got an exam...

\- Any excuse..., replied Crawford as the teenager walked back to his room.

 

ooOOoo

 

The car drove towards one of Schuldig's usual clubs in a uptown part of Tokyo, and the duo walked towards the doors, perfectly aware of the stares they got; as usual, Farfarello ignored them and Schuldig basked in them. They entered and sat down at their usual table, in the shadows, where they could observe everything and not be seen. Farfarello had chosen this table the first time they had come here together, and if anyone was sitting there when they arrived, a gentle hint was usually enough to send them running. Either that, or one look at Farfarello.

\- Now that the job's over, all we need now is a big drink and a few hours of relaxation.

\- I suppose ye'll be hunting tonight..., said Farfarello in a low voice, seeing the German eye the people around them.

\- There's nothing to excite me tonight... The kittens aren't around and I can't say that the club is teeming with interest.

\- Where have all the good men gone? replied Farfarello lightly.

The telepath blinked for a few seconds, and burst out laughing again. Humour and Farfarello had never seemed to go well together, but then again, he only showed his lighter side around Schuldig. He wasn't insane, well, not in the sense that Eszett had decided it, and he was far from stupid. He did have a sense of humour, but rare were the people who even conceived its existence. And to Schuldig's knowledge, he was the only person who actually found that Farfarello could be very funny when he wanted to.

\- I'm going to order... Fancy anything special? asked Schuldig, getting up.

\- Guiness.

\- Right...wait just two seconds.

The telepath walked over to the bar, and Farfarello noted the looks he attracted. It wasn't surprising, seeing the way he was dressed and the way he swung those hips of his to the heavy music, but the Irishman felt pangs of jealousy. It was a new sensation, he hadn't really felt any emotion since...

 

ooOOoo

 

 _He was in his cell again, after they'd finished with the tests. He looked at the padded white walls and the white ceiling. They thought that he would do what? Throw himself against them? As if he was that stupid. He sat down on the padded floor and waited. All he had to do was wait, there wasn't much else to do._

 __

 _It didn't really bother him though, he was used to it. They thought he was insane, unable to read, write or even speak. Fine by him. What was the point in speaking here anyway? They wouldn't even want to listen to him. So he spent his days looking at those white walls and thinking._

 _The door opened, and he looked up. There were the usual guards, both almost shaking just by looking at him, and between them was someone he had never seen before. Tall, spectacled and in an impeccable white suit, he stood there, looking at him. The guards came in and put the strait-jacket on him, and he stared silently at them before the bespectacled man motioned for him to follow._

 _This was new indeed. Who was this person? It wasn't really a interested question, more of a need for information. If he knew who it was, he would know what would be asked of him. He followed and listened to the conversation around him. They didn't even bother to keep their voices down; after all, he was a retard, wasn't he? The little group reached the underground car-park, and Farfarello saw the large car waiting. The stranger turned to Farfarello and motioned towards the car._

 _\- Get in._

 _\- He's all yours now, Mr Crawford, although I don't quite understand how Eszett can find any use with him, he's completely insane..., said one of the guards._

 _Farfarello watched out of the corner of his eye as the man named Crawford smiled slowly, his glasses glinting dangerously._

 _The car started to drive, and Farfarello looked out of the window with mild interest, still tightly encased in his strait-jacket. This was, after all, his first moment out of Rosenkreuz since he arrived, a few years before._

 _\- I suppose you're wondering why I'm taking you to Japan. And don't try to act stupid, I'm not one of those cretins at the laboratory. I know you can understand me perfectly...said Crawford in perfect English._

 _Farfarello looked up and studied the man's face._

 _\- So tell me, he replied, in his light Irish tilt._

 _His voice was slighlty cracked, from not speaking in years, but not as bad as he would have thought. Crawford smiled again, and threw him a heavy file._

 _\- You can read all about it. I don't expect you've forgotten to read, either._

 _Farfarello studied Crawford a little more, but seeing that he was himself deeply occupied in writing, he looked closely at the open file and read. He learnt about the project known as Schwartz, and found the data on the others who had already been chosen by Crawford. So, they were to help Eszett bring about the end of the world as they knew it and build a whole new era based on the arrival of their leader, and people with preternatural abilities were to be the new supreme species._

 _Preternatural...now that was a word for freak he hadn't heard before. It sounded good._

 _\- The files make no mention of my name, he pointed out_

 _Crawford looked up and shrugged._

 _\- They didn't find it necessary to give you one; you know why I suppose._

 _\- Because I'm a freak, unable to read, write, talk or interact socially. They gave me a codename, but it doesn't suit me._

 _\- I think it does. Berserker suits you perfectly, seen what you can do._

 _Farfarello stayed silent for a while, before motioning to the file again._

 _\- The only thing in this file that I can't find is why you're the one in charge of Schwartz. There is no mention of who you are, or what's in it for you._

 _\- It's only to be expected that you have questions; I'll answer them when we get to the plane, when we'll be alone..._

 _  
_

ooOOoo

 

 _They stayed in silence for the rest of the journey, but Farfarello wasn't as relaxed as he seemed. It wasn't because this man had taken him out of Rosenkreuz that he was going to trust him straight away; he might not have told the truth, and Farfarello decided not to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he took everything Crawford told him with suspicion, then he wouldn't be surprised if the worst came to the worst and if this was all just another test._

 _They reached the airport after an hour's drive, and one of Eszett's private planes was waiting for them. What genuinely surprised Farfarello was that he could detect no guards in the plane. He stretched his senses to their maximum, but couldn't hear, see or even smell anyone. This was definately unusual... He was alone, with Crawford and a pilot, in this small plane, flying across the Pacific._

 _Crawford sat down, and waited for Farfarello to do the same, but the Irishman stayed standing._

 _\- There are no guards, although you know that already, and there's no point in overpowering me or the pilot; I don't doubt that you could very easily find your place in this world, but listen to what I have to say before you decide. My name is Brad Crawford, and I'm in charge of a small group of special people trained by Eszett, who's goal is to overrun the currant world society, and replace it with their ideal creation. Between you and me, I don't give a fuck about their plans and they'll probably guess that soon. For the time being, they don't trust me, and so they've decided to land me this mission in order to hamper my own plans._

 _\- Do I and the others you're in charge of have their place in your plan, or are we just your cover? asked Farfarello, sitting down._

 _This was starting to sound almost like a rebellion against Eszett, and it wasn't displeasing to hear, after the experiments he'd been through._

 _\- That's for you to decide, although I believe that you'll all come in useful._

 _\- What are you offering then? asked Farfarello, alert as ever._

 _\- I'm offering you a niche in this insane world, a place where you can stay and not be regarded as a freak while we work our plan. Eszett wants to plunge the world in chaos; we're planning to destroy it and build a new one, where only people such as us will survive. They want to call their King, we can call the Devil himself. Does my offer please you?_

 _Farfarello waited in silence, thinking about it. It was seductive, he had to admit, to live outside of the laboratory for the first time in years. He also had a feeling that whatever would happen to him, it wouldn't be worse than Rosenkreuz... He agreed.  
The plane flew over the ocean, and inside, Farfarello was sleeping. Well, almost. _

_He still didn't feel safe enough to let his guard down completely, and he slept lightly. He could hear everything around him, and his body was naturally steeled to awake at the slightest noise. But all he could hear until now was Crawford turning over the pages of his book and the engines running. After a while, Crawford started to breathe slower and lower, and Farfarello opened his eye. Sure enough, he was fast asleep. The Irishman waited for a while, and closed his eye again, allowing himself to drift a little deeper into sleep._

 _It was the next morning when the plane landed at one of the Tokyo airports, and inside, Farfarello and Crawford were both wide awake. Crawford had slept almost all the trip; after all, he hadn't Seen anything that could concern him on board the plane, and he knew that his newest addition to Schwartz had been to busy thinking and looking out for a trap to fully sleep. He motioned for the Irishman to follow him, and walked up to a large black car; he sat behind the wheel and waited for Farfarello to sit down next to him._

 _\- You'll get to meet your first teammate when we arrive, and please avoid killing him, no matter how tempting it can be.. By the way, what is your name?_

 _\- Call me Farfarello._

 _\- Just as fitting as Berserker._

 _  
_

ooOOoo

 

 _Crawford drove in silence towards the large facility in the suburb of Tokyo, where had been set up the Schwartz's temporary headquarters. Their orders were to wait for the arrival of a certain Reiji Takatori on the political scene and serve as his bodyguards. Crawford could imagine, if not See, how uplifting the whole mission was going to be. But Eszett's decisions weren't to be questionned, no matter how stupid they were._

 _The car stopped in one of the underground garages, and the two got out of the car, Farfarello closely watched by a large number of agents. Crawford gave some quick orders, and then took Farfarello towards the stairs leading to the heart of this Eszett installation._

 _The Irishman looked around as he walked, noting that even if the security and the numbers were nothing compared to Rosenkreuz, this was no less one of Rosenkreuz's motherhouses. He followed Crawford through the passageway until they came to what could vaguely be described as the sleeping area. Several small rooms were visible, almost as small as his cell back at Rosenkreuz, thought Farfarello with a hint of irony. Crawford however wasn't thinking much as he walked down the corridor towards the end room, from which was erupting a hellish sound._

 _Farfarello watched from the hallway as Crawford marched up, his face set in a mask of calmness. He knocked on the shuddering door, but nothing happened. Then, he gave it a kick and the door flew open, revealing a green-haired youth, dressed in only a figure-hugging pair of red hipsters, dancing around to the heavy beat storming out of his radio with his eyes closed. Crawford walked up to the radio and switched it off and as he did, the youth opened his eyes, revealing their deep-red glow._

 _- Scheisse Brad! Why did you do that? he whined, straddling Crawford and running his hands through his hair._

 _\- Shut up Schuldig! I'm sick of you already! You've been here a week and I'm already sick of you!_

 _\- Don't be such a prick, Brad...dance with me...you know you want it._

 _\- If you don't get out of my head this second, you're going to regret it._

 _\- Oh get that stick out of your arse Brad... I want you to dance with me, Brad...I want you to fuck with me, Brad..._

 _Crawford's hand flew out and the German fell to the floor, his cheek blazing red and a trickle of blood flowing from his lips. He tried to get up, but only managed to stumble against the small table that lay against his bed and several needles fell on the floor._

 _\- You're a hopless piece of crap Schuldig. But Schuldig just rubbed his cheek and laughed, picking at the needles as Crawford left the room, still fuming. When the German looked back towards the door, he saw Farfarello in the stairway, looking at him._

 _\- Was willst du? he called out, unsteadily getting to his feet_

 _Farfarello just kept looking at him. Something was picking at his mind, and he couldn't quite decide what it was._

 _\- Wie heisst du? Schuldig ist nicht deine wirklische Name... replied Farfarello._

 _Schuldig's eyes widened in surprise, and then he burst out laughing. It was a high-pitched, childish laughter, so much different from the challenging laugh he'd given Crawford, and in his burning eyes there was only a childlike mirth. He laughed and laughed, falling back onto the floor, and Farfarello came closer. He was almost hypnotised by that emerald hair and those crimson eyes, and most of all, he was hypnotised by that laughter. It was a sound he hadn't heard in years..._

 _\- You're not going to tell me that Farfarello is your real name, are you? asked Schuldig, sitting on his bed and pulling his trousers off._

 _\- It isn't, but it's the one I have now._

 _\- Same with me, so let's leave it at that. So you're the newest addition to Crawford's House of Horrors, are you? Welcome, Willkomen, irasshaimase... Whatever you prefer... Now let me sleep off the heroin, and we'll go for a drink...to relax..._

 _  
_

ooOOoo

 

But they hadn't gone out that night, and it would be many more before Farfarello would see the outside of his padded cell in the Schwartz headquarters. The first few weeks he had gone through some kind of almost psychotic breakthrough, and had had to be sedated. Indeed, for the first few weeks, he only saw the inside of the padded cell that had (apparently) been specially built for him. He remembered little of that period, only that there was a constant presence of Schuldig.

At first it was just a distraction, this green-haired entity sitting in the corner of his cell, completely stoned out of his brain on the latest drug he'd found, rattling on about all and nothing, but over a period of time, Farfarello began to wait for it. Through the haze of what Schuldig called his "cold-turkey period", he listened and learned. He was incapable of remembering what the German had been speaking about for the hours he'd been in there, but the sound of his nasal voice soothed him somewhat. One thing he remembered though was something Schuldig had told him before leaving at one time. The psychotic breakdown was due to the withdrawal of the drugs that Eszett had used on him during his detention. And basically, these breakdowns wouldn't leave him alone, no matter how he tried, and that he should look forward to several more of these over the years. Farfarello found this fact reassuringly depressing. They spent all their time together, seen as Crawford didn't find their presence uplifting or essential to his work while waiting for Takatori to rise to power. And of course, in the end, they had...

\- Farfy? You alive? Farfarello, Earth calling Farfarello! Hello!

\- I'm fine, I was just thinking.

\- Happens to even the best of us..., grinned the telepath, drinking his vodka and pushing the pint towards Farfarello.

And they sat in silence, as they mostly did...they didn't need to talk to feel comfortable. The music was hypnotising, just what Schuldig needed at times (and just loved mostly), and Farfarello understood that. He understood Schuldig, just as Schuldig understood him. They really were an odd couple of psychopaths... And when Schuldig leaned back into his seat, he gritted his teeth and pain flashed in his eyes.

\- _Fuck!_

Farfarello nodded, remembering the deep-blue bruises he'd seen on Schuldig's body a few days ago. They hadn't disappeared yet, and the telepath nursed a not-so-secret desire to have a few minutes alone with their employer and his golf-clubs. It seemed to be a favourite distraction of Takatori's : when something didn't go as he planned, it was obviously Schwartz's fault. So out came the golf-club and down came the blows. Usually on the same two Schwartz.

He didn't care, he didn't really feel anything, and the bruises were gone in a few days, but Schuldig could feel. The time before last, Takatori had almost broken the telepath's nose... It was amazing that Takatori didn't have the self-preservation instincts of even the smallest of mice, and didn't realise that when Schuldig looked at him, after having had a good amount of blows on his face, Takatori's death was written in those red eyes of his. Farfarello supposed that that was the reason that Crawford never let the German alone with Takatori.

\- I'm going back, what about you? asked Farfarello, finishing his pint.

\- No, I'll stick around a little longer...if mommy Crawford asks, tell him I'll be back before midnight, promise. I finish my vodka, have another one, dance a bit and walk home.

\- I'll see you later then.

 

ooOOoo

 

And the Irishman walked out the club, leaving Schuldig in front of his half-empty glass. What the hell was wrong, the telepath wondered. Why the fuck didn't he want to get laid tonight? Nothing to excite him? Since when did fucking around with someone's mind not excite him? And since when did he refuse himself the pleasure of walking to the flower-shop and seeing if a little _Schatte_ was around? He hadn't tried a new drug recently, and even then he was a natural at absorbing all the shit he injected himself...what the fuck was wrong with him?

\- Mind if I sit here and talk? came a voice.

\- Fuck off, I'm not in the mood..., replied Schuldig, but a hand grabbed him.

\- Since when is a whore not in the mood?

 _Since when is a whore..._

That voice...it was impossible...

 _...not in the mood? Lick, bitch!_

Schuldig slowly looked at the person sitting in front of him and, for the first time in a lifetime, he felt himself tremble and his mouth go dry. The man sitting in front of him had the one face he would never forget, no matter how long he lived; he dumbly realised that he was desperately trying to run away, but his body wouldn't answer.

\- Hello Schuldig...been a long time, hasn't it? I've been seeing you for a while in this club, but I wasn't sure it was you... Until I saw your face, of course. That cock-sucking mouth of yours is unforgettable...

 _Lick it! Lick until you choke on it!_

\- Looks like the cat's got your tongue...I knew you'd be happy to see me again even if you left without saying goodbye; that wasn't very nice of you, was it Schuldig?

But Schuldig wasn't even listening. He was far away, back in a world that he had almost managed to forget, a world smelling of sweat, semen and blood...his blood.

\- Probably thinking about the good old days, aren't you? Do you know, I kept all our little toys...we'll be able to play again, as if you'd never gone away! _Mein Herz_.

His hand clamped down on Schuldig's crotch, and the telepath went rigid. He'd forgotten the voice and almost forgotten the face, but that touch...he wouldn't ever forget that touch... His mind was screaming in pure panic and disgust. _Not him! Not him!_ His mind was screaming, and all he could do was sit, with this ghost from his past.

His mind was screaming, but he could only sit...like then...

 

ooOOoo

 

 _He opened his eyes in panic as he heard the footsteps walk down the corridor; it wasn't unusual to have people down here; it was a whorehouse, wasn't it? But those footsteps made him want to run away and hide in the smallest hole possible, and his hands tightened over the pill. He couldn't count how many people he'd seen today, the number of blowjobs, the number of dry, hard fucks he'd had, the number of faceless people who'd come all over him, over and over again... How long had he been here? He couldn't remember._

 _\- How are you today, mein Herz? came the voice, and all went would remember in his dreams, but at least, for now, he could just do and forget. The pills were like a vision of Heaven, like a hand reaching out to a drowning man...So what if he was hooked on them? He wasn't going to last long anyway, not with the way...this...was going on. The man came everyday, had done so for a while, and didn't seem all that in a hurry to leave. He came, and all he left behind were the bruises, the pain and the sick, sick feeling that made you want to die. Even his smell made Schuldig want to vomit over and over again._

 _Schuldig had seen enough people to not feel anything anymore, but this man...this man made him gag and scream when no-one could hear him, made him loose himself in the neverending noise in his head, just to forget what he remembered when the pills wore off... He remembered and screamed, in the darkness of the empty room. Even whores got to have some sleep, but Schuldig didn't want any. If he slept, then the dreams would come, and in those dreams, he remembered even more. He remembered how he got those bruises, he remembered what things had gone inside him, how many times he had swallowed and almost vomited there and then. But he mustn't vomit...he remembered what had happened the only time he had gagged with that man._

 _At last, the man left, leaving Schuldig with the usual sense of deep nausea. The pills were still working their magic, and he didn't register at once that he couldn't move. And when he finally did, he closed his eyes and let slip two tears from under the lids. How long would he be left in this position, naked and bound to the bed, covered in semen and trembling so violently with terror that the bed shook. He recognised the scenario...the man was in one of his moods, and this time, he wouldn't just let Schuldig off with a simple handjob and a dry fuck. And this time as ever, there would be no pills to make the nightmare go away... He heard the footsteps start on their way back, and he sarted to panic uncontrollably before a hand grabbed his mouth, forcing those sweaty fingers inside._

 _\- You like it like that, don't you, mein Herz? There'll be a reward if you're a good boy...but only if you're a good boy... And you know what you have to do to be a good boy, don't you Schuldig? My pretty little Liebling._

 _Then came the mouth and the hands, doing things that made his body quiver with revulsion; then came the dildo and he knew what he had to do to be a good boy. He was untied, and he turned onto his stomach, letting himself be tied again. He closed his eyes, feeling the sharp point of the dildo trace a long, almost gentle journey on his back...and then came the pain as he was entered roughly. He tried to stop himself from screaming, but didn't manage to stifle his cry as it escaped through his clenched teeth._

 _He was entered again and again, with all the little toys the man kept in that bag of his, and every time, he cried out in pain. And every time he cried out, the thrusting got harder, got faster, until he didn't even have the strength left to cry out any more.. And when the thrusting was over, Schuldig turned over again, and the man urinated all over his face, forving him to drink it, to lick every drop, and he laughed, saying he was a good little cunt. He had learned well, he had remembered..._

 _  
_

ooOOoo

 

Schuldig was still looking dumbly at the glass in front of him, not even aware that he was now sitting next to him, and eagerly fingering the insides of his pants. He turned towards the man, and his eyes were like dim coals, twin pools of dampened fire.

\- You listen to me now bitch... I want to see you in my room tomorrow night at ten. It's at the Metro hotel, room 1665. If you get there earlier, ask for me... You remember my name don't you? Of course you don't...who needs to talk to a whore? Karl Heintz, bitch, remember it. And if you don't come tomorrow, I'll find you. I'm only in Japan for another two weeks, before I fly back to our dearest Germany...but I can find you again. And all the fun we had will seem so boring compared to what I'll do to you when I find you... _Mein Herz._

Karl pulled his hand loose and walked out of the club, blowing Schuldig a kiss before closing the door.


	3. Chapter 3

\- I still don't understand why Takatori wants to see us...you had a meeting with him just yesterday, Nagi said, finishing his last cup of tea while his pen flew across the paper.

\- He just wants to assure himself of our undying loyalty to him, snorted Crawford, rustling his paper.

\- Well I'm not going to miss out on an exam just to please him... I'll see you tomorrow, and try and make Schuldig not put his music on full when he comes in.

Crawford raised an eyebrow, and the teen sighed before walking up the stairs. He turned towards Farfarello, who was slumped in front of the television with his eye shut.

\- Where is he anyway?

\- He said he'd be back before midnight.

\- It's already half-past one.

\- I suppose you want me to go and find him? Crawford was spared answering, as Farfarello got out of the sofa and headed towards the door, grabbing his coat as he went. It was a common thing, Schuldig not coming back before the early hours of the morning, and Farfarello was quite used to going to look for him.

 

ooOOoo

 

 _He'd been gone for hours, and no-one knew where he was. Farfarello had come out of his padded cell only a few days beforehand, and had met with the last member of their little group: Nagi, the thirteen year-old telekinetic that Eszett had given to Crawford. Nagi had taken an immediate dislike to both Schuldig (whom he deemed a sadistic, drug-addicted bastard) and Farfarello (whom he saw as a psychopathic nutcase), and seemed happiest avoiding them._

 _Farfarello had just taken the opportunity to observe the little patterns and rituals of the household: Nagi shutting himself in his room with loud music as he typed away on his computer almost as soon as he came back from school, only appearing to bring Crawford information or to eat; Crawford reading his book in the livng-room, trying to ignore the sounds around him, and issuing orders or Schuldig ignoring Crawford's orders, disappearing for hours without telling anyone and coming back at whatever time he wanted._

 _Farfarello was quite content to stay in his room, surrounded by books of all description, while the chaos errupted around him, but this time, he decided to go and look for the telepath. He'd tried to remember where he'd seen that face before, but he couldn't place it. An almost unthinkable thing had started to happen to him since his arrival in Schwartz: he'd started to feel again. He'd started to realise that he quite appreciated being around Schuldig, hearing him talk, grumble (about Crawford, mostly...) or even laugh; he felt...content...at being around the telepath._

 _The first night they'd gone out (after he'd been allowed out of his cell) he'd followed without great enthusiasm but he'd felt at ease. There was no-one to say he was a freak, to call him insane or a retard, there was only this emerald-haired teenager drinking his vodka, looking all around him with those sly eyes that glinted crimson. They hadn't even talked much, just drank and appreciated the silence. Although "silence" wasn't exactly the word fitting the telepath's choice destination. He had wondered at why Schuldig had chosen such a loud, streamlighted place to relax, but hadn't asked, guessing rightly that the answer would present itself soon enough._

 _\- So...what are you here for? the German had asked suddenly._

 _Farfarello had looked up and had seen Schuldig looking at him over the rim of his half-empty glass._

 _\- Farfarello, isn't it? I didn't have time to ask back there, so I'm asking you now...what made you one of Brad's chosen ones?_ _You were too busy going cold turkey, and Brad wasn't very loquacious..._

 _\- He told me that Eszett thought that I was...adequate...for their plans._

 _\- And how are you adequate?_

 _The Irishman had thrown him a look, but he couldn't detect anything in Schuldig's face that made him need to shield himself from him. He had only seen curiosity, childish curiosity._

 _\- I can perfectly control my body, every muscle, every nerve, everything._

 _\- No way! Show me! Again that perfectly childish, almost innocent, look in those eyes._

 _Farfarello had slowly taken the now-empty glass in front of Schuldig and had shattered it on the table, before taking the longest shard and delicately pushing it through his palm. Schuldig had looked on in interest, and when Farfarello had retrieved the shard through the other side of his hand, the telepath had burst out laughing again._

 _\- Wunderbar! And you really can't feel anything? That's cool!_

 _\- I can feel, I just control it better than other people. What about you? Why are you here?_

 _\- They couldn't find one better than me...Back there there were a few of us, but I was the strongest of them. Even if they thought I was a completely "useless piece of crap", to coin a phrase, I was the best. Ja baby, I'm a telepath... I can see what's in their minds, I can bathe in their deepest secrets and I can make them do what I want. I'm the best, Jei._

 _Farfarello had started at the use of his old name, and had stared at the man in front of him._

 _\- Jei no longer exists._

 _\- I know that... Don't think I said that to fuck you up, Farfy._

 _\- Stay out of my mind._

 _\- No problem there...right, I'm going to have another drink...I'll bring you another beer..._

 _  
_

ooOOoo

 

 _Farfarello was still walking as he remembered., he hadn't meant it as a threat, he knew now; he had meant it almost as a warning...he had wanted to warn Schuldig that his mind wasn't safe... He halted on the crossing just in front of the club they'd both been to that night. He might as well start looking there... He started to walk towards the doors when a familiar voice caught his ear. He watched from the shadows, and could easily recognise that silhouette and those green locks...but who was that with him? Crawford hadn't given any of them a mission tonight... The Irishman followed discretly until the pair reached one of the numerous "love-hotels" that Tokyo housed._

 _They went inside, followed by Farfarello, and the stranger opened one of the doors, locking himself and the telepath inside; Farfarello had no doubts whatsoever to what was going on inside the room, and just stayed outside, waiting for the door to open. He was actually quite surprised with himself : since when had he wanted to wait for someone? And why did he keep seeing tears every time he thought of Schuldig?_

 _After a while the door opened, and the stranger came out, passing Farfarello without even seeing him, but the silver-haired youth could smell the almost overpowering smell of sweat and semen. The smell played around with his memories, waking them up a little more, until he could almost remember._

 _He walked towards the door and pushed it open, looking around for Schuldig. His eyes finally fell upon the shape on the bed, wrapped in the stained sheets, breathing heavily, totally oblivious to Farfarello's presence. Schuldig was fast asleep and Farfarello suddenly remembered why he had felt he knew him. That face, flushed and breathless, that same body in complete abandon between the sheets, and the way that hair made a halo of green silk around his head, and glistened with sweat...Farfarello had already seen him. A small smile played on his sleeping lips, and Farfarello found himself bringing up strange thoughts of fallen angels._

 _The telepath stirred suddenly, aware of his presence, and opened his eyes._

 _\- Farfy? What are you doing here?_

 _\- I came to find you. Crawford is furious._

 _\- Brad always has to make a fuss about something...if it's not me then it's the weather..._

 _Schuldig reached out for his clothes, spread out on the floor, and started to dress, still sleepy. He glanced at the Irishman standing in the doorway._

 _\- You're not saying anything._

 _\- Is there anything to say?_

 _\- You could ask why I did it... That's why anyone would say._

 _\- I'm not anyone. I don't need to, I know all that already. I saw you once...I remembered just now that I'd already seen you in Rosenkreuz._

 _\- You saw me in Rosenkreuz... They thought they couldn't do anything with me...just thought I was useless and only good for as a whore._

 _Farfarello sat down on the bed next to Schuldig, the German lying back with his hands over his eyes._

 _\- I was probably doped to the eyeballs when they took me in off the Berlin streets...I don't remember much, thanks to the dope and all...just that I finished up there..._

 _\- You drug yourself to forget the voices. The music and the sex help block them out as well, don't they? Schuldig grinned despite his obvious fatigue._

 _It was useless to lie to Farfarello, he could see right through him._

 _\- Why else do you think I get fucked so often? Rosenkreuz's legacy? Ja, so I admit : once a whore, always a whore, but at least I can get pleasure out of it now...plus I'm mostly on top these days._

 _Farfarello smiled in the darkness; he was a confessor now, a forgiver... It was comical. The German got up and Farfarello followed suit._

 _\- Better get back or Brad's going to go nuclear on us... but what the fuck were you doing in the whorehouse anyway?_

 _\- It was just a test to see if I could control my sexual desires as well as the rest of my body. I must say they were disappointed.  
Schuldig grinned._

 _\- I guess...although just by looking at you, I wouldn't bet you actually had sexual desires! _

_\- I did, but I controlled them.  
_

 

ooOOoo

 

Farfarello parked in the side-street. And that's how they had ended up by telling each-other everything about themselves, their dark pasts, their sins, their tainted dreams...and they had ended up by saying...everything...

He realised he was near the club they'd been to and decided he might as well start looking there. Most probably the telepath had succombed to the dance, the drink or the cute girl or guy he'd seen in a corner, and had forgotten all about the time. Nothing unusual there... And if one of the kittens had turned up, he wouldn't be at their headquarters before the next morning. And then Crawford would really "go nuclear.

He walked into the club, looking for his teammate; his eyes roved over the ususal drinkers and dancers, before seeing the familiar absinthe shimmer in the exact corner where they had drank earlier. He came closer, and noticed the same half-drunk vodka. He hadn't ordered another drink since earlier? That was...unexpected.

\- I've come to get you home; looks like you forgot the time.

The German didn't answer, and Farfarello came closer.

\- Are you listening to me? Crawford is furious, and even though I know you don't... Schuldig? Can you hear me?

No reaction in those crimson eyes that had lost their usual glow.

\- Schu?

Schuldig didn't react to the sound of Farfarello's voice, and when the Irishman touched his arm, the telepath was frozen. Concern flashed in Farfarello's golden eye, and he sat down in front of Schuldig and looked intently at him. He had seen Schuldig in many different states; he had seen him dead drunk, stoned out of his brain, fuck-happy and deeply depressed, but it was the first time he had ever been this unresponsive. And cold.

Farfarello recognised a deep state of shock, but it was impossible to shock Schuldig...wasn't it? He was a telepath, and one of the most powerful ones that Rosenkreuz had trained (in a manner of speaking)...so how could anyone get that far into his mind to shock him like this?

Farfarello reached out and took the stone-cold hand on the table and pressed it. A faint glint appeared in the telepath's eyes, and Farfarello pressed his hand harder, before Schuldig blinked and looked blearily around him.

\- Schu, talk to me, tell me what happened.

-J...Jei?

\- What happened? Have you been here all this time?

The use of Farfarello's old name only made him more concerned. Schuldig hadn't called him Jei for years.

\- I...I guess...what time is it?

\- Almost two.

A small grin trembled on the telepath's face, and Farfarello relaxed slightly.

\- Brad must be having a heart attack...I did say I'd be back by midnight.

\- Forget about Crawford; what happened?

\- Nothing important, forget about it, Farfy.

Schuldig made to get up, but Farfarello caught his arm again, as he stumbled and fell against the table.

\- You won't make me believe that. Who did this?

\- Who did what?

\- Who managed to fuck you up so badly that you didn't even hear me and can't walk straight?

Schuldig hesitated a while, different emotions crossing his face; Farfarello stared deeply into his friend's eyes and waited. In the end, the German got up, and when Farfarello went to stay him again, Schuldig merely pointed to the bar. He came back with a full glass of vodka, and sat back down; taking a long swig, he closed his eyes and started to talk, his voice grey and feeble.

\- I told you all about Rosenkreuz, I told you everything...I told you everything, except one thing that...I wish I could've forgotten... There was a...a man there...who did...things...to me. I know it sounds stupid, but he was the only person I hated. Through the drug and the noise I hated him, for what he did...for those things he did to me. And he terrified me...so much... Even now I can't...I can't tell you what he did.

Schuldig stopped and stayed silent.

\- Show me then.

Schuldig looked into that golden eye in front of him, and Farfarello could see the shining trail of tears running down the telepath's cheeks.

\- Show me... Show me what he did to you. Show me what you can't tell me.

After a moment's hesitation, Schuldig reached out and cupped Farfarello's cheek, closing his eyes, and sending out all he had kept a secret for so long. All the scenes unfurled from his mind and crashed into Farfarello's; all the long, dark nights, all the pent-up terror and all the humiliation and disgust.

All he hadn't found any words to say.


	4. Chapter 4

After a long while, Farfarello opened his eye again, and his gaze fell upon the telepath in front of him; Schuldig had fallen deeply asleep, his vodka almost untouched, and the tears undried. Farfarello didn't know for how long exactly he had been in the telepath's web, but that wasn't his prime concern.

 _What do you do to people who annoy you?_

His eye was even more a slit as he recalled some of the images Schuldig had sent him, and as he got up, it was glinting nastily. He carefully cradled the telepath, lifting him up on his shoulder, and heading towards the exit, ignoring the looks people gave them. He walked towards his jeep, surprised at Schuldig's lack of weight, and placed him carefully on the passenger seat, emerald hair spilling all over the leather. The jeep started, and Farfarello glanced over at Schuldig, to see if the noise would wake him, but the telepath was still breathing heavily.

Farfarello drove through the Tokyo streets, the rain starting to fall on the windshield; he was silently running over in his mind the things he had seen, the pain, the humiliation, the tears...those tears Schuldig had let slip from his eyes. The jeep drove into the parking next to the Schwartz's appartment. Schuldig was awake enough to stumble out of the car and walk over to the front door, but Farfarello caught him as he fell heavily backwards. He opened the door and started his way up the stairs, the telepath leaning on his shoulder, unable to walk alone, caught between shock and emotional fatigue.

No-one was around; Crawford had probably been asleep for hours and Nagi could sleep like a log, no matter what happened around him. Reaching Schuldig's bedroom at the far end of the corridor, Farfarello lowered him onto the bed; Schuldig was frozen but that didn't stop Farfarello from stripping him and wrapping him in the sheets. The room was as hot as ever and the telepath wouldn't be cold for much longer. Farfarello sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Schuldig opened his eyes for a second, and a ghost of a smile fluttered across his lips.

 _/Thank you... Jei.../_

And then, there was nothing; Schuldig had fallen back asleep. Farfarello looked at him for a moment longer, before he reached down and kissed that long, emerald hair. He wanted to do so much more, but there were other things to do first. More important things.

Walking down the corridor, Farfarello stopped in front of another door and knocked, waiting for it to open; a few seconds later, a rather dischevelled-looking Nagi opened it, torn between tiredness and annoyance.

\- Have you seen the time? I have an exam in a few hours and I'd like to pass.

\- If they fail you, I'll kill them.

\- I suppose you're not here just to talk about my exams, what's up?

\- I want you to find someone. Now.

\- Can't Schuldig do that, or is he too stoned? All right, don't look at me like that...who do you want to find?

Nagi walked over to his computer as Farfarello searched in his mind for that tiny scrap of information Schuldig had let slip in the club.

\- Karl Heinz. Wherever he is and now.

The teen's fingers flew over the keyboard, and Farfarello stayed unmoving on Nagi's bed, his eye rivetted on the computer screen. A few minutes passed, and Nagi finally leaned back from the computer.

\- He's at the Metro hotel, room 1665. And probably sound asleep, seen the time.

\- He'll be wide awake soon...trust me.

\- What's all this about? Farfarello?

Only one word came out of the Irishman's lips, but it was enough. Nagi sighed, put a jumper on, and sat in front of the computer again; there was no point going back to sleep now... He opened up his usual chat and waited.

 

ooOOoo

 

The Metro hotel was a towering glass building, straining to be as Occidental as possible, but failing miserably and just looking like another of the numerous business centres around. Farfarello parked the jeep in a side-alley and walked through the front doors, ignoring the rather startled looks he was given. He walked over to the stairs and started to go up, images flashing on and on in the darkness of his mind.

 _What do you do to people who annoy you?_

The telepath's voice was still very present in his mind, as were those tears, memories hidden away for so long.

Farfarello reached the wanted floor and walked along the corridor, reaching room 1665 with a little smile playing on his lips.

 _What do you do..._

The Irishman studied the electronic lock, before taking the gun he had taken from Schuldig's night-table, and blowing the lock apart. Studying the smoking remains for a moment, he replaced the gun in his pocket, pushed the door slowly open and closed it behind him.

Even in the pitch darkness of the room, his eye clearly caught every detail, the whisky bottles on the table, the porn magazines on the floor, and the snoring pile in the bed. He looked at the sleeping face for a moment, before his mind played back this same face, leering over a sweat-filled halo of emerald hair, and he leaped onto the bed, squarely onto the man's stomach.

The loud scream that was let out was a good start, thought the Irishman, switching on the light and staring deeply into the blurry dark eyes that had opened in shock. He had seen those eyes through another's vision, and just smiled.

\- Who...who are you? What are you doing here? let out Karl Heintz, but Farfarello merely shifted his position off the man's chest and sat on the end of the bed, crouching like a giant cat.

\- I'm calling security! shouted the Eszett agent, but the interphone was cut off by a butterfly knife sailing through the air and planting itself into the plastic, causing it to explode in a horrible smell of burning plastic and metalwork.

\- All lines are temporaily down, came the stranger's voice, and it grated like rusty nails against Karl's ear.

\- What do you want? tried Karl, but his question ended in a bubbly scream, as an iron fist clenched itself across his throat.

Farfarello lifted Karl a few centimeters off the ground, before throwing him across the room, as if the corpulant man was only a ragdoll. He watched in silence as Karl hit the wall opposite, and crumpled onto the floor, his nose leaking blood; this was going to be a long night...

 

ooOOoo

 

 _Freesia - > Still OL? Don't u ever sleep?_

ProdigalChylde -> I could ask you the same question...isn't it a little late to be surfing?

 _Freesia - > Look who's talking! Don't u have an exam 2morro?_

ProdigalChylde -> You should know by now that genius hybrids don't need to sleep.

 _Freesia - > ROTFLMAO...the others keeping u awake again?_

ProdigalChylde -> Well, I guess you could say that. Farfarello just went and did a very strange thing.

 _Freesia - > Stranger than usual? U sound worried, what did he do, start an ikebana class?_

ProdigalChylde -> No, he just asked me to locate someone.

 _Freesia - > And that's OOC?_

ProdigalChylde -> It's strange because he had the guy's name, and that's more than enough for Schuldig to make his brain work and find him.

 _Freesia - > I kno what ur getting at, but Schuldig could just b out. He clubs + than Yôji, if that's humanly possible..._

ProdigalChylde -> No, they came back together, and no matter what, Farfarello can always get Schuldig to do something for him.

 _Freesia - > So what's the Xplanation, genius hybrid?_

ProdigalChylde -> Schuldig is in deep shit and Farfarello is going to kick ass. If your friends are out tonight, better tell them to stay away from Farfarello. If they see him, he won't be in a very good mood.

 _Freesia - > They're out to get this SS agent recently sighted in Tokyo... And 2 think I won't b able to sleep until they get back...mind if we chat or r u 2 tired?_

ProdigalChylde -> What did I say about being a genius hybrid?

 

ooOOoo

 

Karl tried to move, but his shattered nose made his head swirl. Who was this guy? He showed up in this room, having cheated security and having exploded the lock, and for no obvious reason. Why was he here anyway? But Karl wasn't given the chance to continue his thoughts, as Farfarello leaped again, reaching his side in two easy steps; Karl tried to hurry out of the way, but a hand tightened around his neck and sent him sprawling onto the bed, and he heard a thump as his head hit the headboard.

Quick as a snake, the Irishman was by his side, pinning him on the bed with one hand, while the other brought a long object into the light. Karl recognised one of the silken ropes he kept in his little red bag, and his eyes widened as the teenager slowly smiled. He had never told anyone about that bag, and he had only taken it out of his house in Germany after his last trip home. This just didn't make sense! He was a complete stranger! How had he known what was in the bag?

He writhed as hard as he could, but he couldn't stop his wrists from being tied to the headboard, and then he winced as the rope was harshly tightened, biting into his wrists.

\- What do you want? Tell me, you fucking nutcase!

Farfarello stopped tying the rope, and leaned down, looking into those eyes with terrifying speed. Karl stiffened, as that one golden eye seemed to glow and flare. Then the Irishman spoke, still tying the ropes.

\- Let's play a game, shall we? The rules are very simple.

\- Fuck your game!

But Farfarello kept talking, ignoring the interruption. His accent was coming back on stronger, as ever when he was caught up in some kind of excitement

\- The rules are very simple: the faster ye ask forgiveness for what ye did, the faster I kill you.

\- Fuck that, you numb piece of shit!

But Karl's act of bravado ended in a bubbly scream, as Farfarello swiftly turned around and dug a sharp nail into the palm of the man's hand.

\- I suggest you begin. I can do this a long time.

-What...what do you want?

\- I already said. I want ye to ask forgiveness for yer crimes.

-What crimes? What...?

But Farfarello stabbed a nail into Karl's other palm and waited for the cry to end before he continued.

\- Find the crime ye are guilty o', then repent.

\- Who do you think you are to judge me, God?

Karl stiffened as Farfarello looked hard at him before leaning in close.

-God? Yes, God has the right to judge, but He has infinite patience and love, extending to all. Ye can await mercy from God, when ye confess your sins and ask fo' His forgiveness. But I am not Him; I have no pity and no forgiveness. Ye can expect no mercy from me, just death. Now, the game begins.

Fafarello squatted down in font of the bound man, writhing on the bed, and waited. He didn't expect Karl to plead for mercy yet, and was idly wondering how long it would take for the fat German to realise what he was here for.

 _Thank you... Jei._

The teenager started to rumage through the small bag at his feet, bringing into the light different objects and looking intently at them. He didn't need to be a telepath to hear the cries and feel the pain coming from them. Three different whips, dildos of every shape and size, gags, cuffs and various other objects.

\- What do you think you're doing? That's mine! You have no right to..., started Karl, before a butterfly knife came flying through the air and impaled itself in his shoulder.

Just after the knife, Farfarello leaped back onto the bed, ripping the knife out of the German's shoulder and licking the blood off it.

\- Do ye not realise what yer position is?

\- I still...don't understand what...you want from me...

\- Try. The length of yer sentence depends on it, replied Farfarello, looking at Karl who was clenching his teeth. Does the pain bother ye? I understand; ye have always been the one to give pain, not to receive it. Get used to it, there is a lot more to come.

\- Whatever it is I've done to you, I apologise!

\- Do ye want to die already? How disappointing. I haven't even started to play with ye yet...and there'll be a reward if ye're a good boy..., finished the Irishman, as an afterthought.

 _...if you're a good boy..._ Karl shivered as those words hit him...they were his, but where had he heard them?

\- Do ye not remember?  Ye don't remember where those words come from, do ye? The faster ye do, the faster ye'll die.

And the teenager sat down once again, playing idly with his knife, and waited. He owed Schuldig on this one...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, a flashback scene that wasn't really necessary, but I liked it and couldn't bring myself to delete it. You can skip it if you want (but please don't? Be nice? *puppy eyes*)

_They were driving back from their usual club, after having a "post-massacre drink", as Schuldig liked to call them, when the telepath's mobile started ringing furiously. Farfarello glanced at it for a moment, before answering. He remained silent, listening to whoever was on the line, Crawford most probably, before flipping it back onto the seat, the little silver bell gashapon ringing to the rhythm of the car._

 _\- Crawford wants us to do one last thing._

 _-Wunderbar! All I need after a drink, more clowns to kill... Why can't he or Nagi take care of this one? No, don't answer, we'll just go._

 _\- Apparently, this person was working for Eszett in their English division, before deciding to betray them and sell information to Kritiker. We're to go to the Narita airport before she leaves for Britain._

 _The car drove on in silence. Why talk? They had learnt to work on a similar wavelength, and needed no words to feel comfortable. They had been working together as Schwartz's main strike-force for a few weeks now, and it had proven to be a very satisfying relationship. It suited everyone : Crawford gave the orders, Nagi found the information with which Crawford could give the orders, and Schuldig and Farfarello went out and killed/intimidated/persuaded the person or persons necessary. It gave them both an excuse to get out anyway._

 _\- Here we are, Narita airport...any details on the lady or do I do it all by myself?_

 _\- Crawford gave no details._

 _\- Great...hang on a minute...do wish Stick-in-the-Ass Man would explain himself sometimes...the least he could do is tell us all of what he Sees._

 _The telepath stayed silent for a few moments, eyes shut and a slight smile playing on his lips. But Farfarello knew that it could just as well be a smile of pleasure or a tight grimace of intruding pain, it depended on the amount of people present, the speed of thoughts, whether the telepath was tired, stoned, drunk or not, and many other factors he hadn't come to grasp yet. No wonder the painkillers disappeared fast!_

 _\- Ja! There she is, the little fox...Off we go Farfy!_

 _\- Only one of us would be enough, don't you think? answered Farfarello._

 _\- That's where you're wrong...two is always better than one! Schuldig opened his door and sauntered out; Farfarello shrugged and followed suit, ignoring the lurid grin the telepath had answered with._

 _The airport was teeming with people, of all nationalities, and the pair only attracted few surprised looks as they walked over to the entrance. Sure enough, there was the ex-Ezsett agent, worriedly looking around as if she half-expected the leaders of Eszett to show up themselves._

 _/Close, but no cigar.../_

 _The woman nearly jumped out of her seat, and the two Schwartz had to admire her calm; it wasn't everyday you got a telepathic message from your soon-to-be killer... She scanned the area, her eyes falling on the suspiscious pair by the door, and she felt her heart freeze. Impossible to mistake that aura... They were seated at the café table, the green-haired one waving at her over his coffee-cup and the other one, the one with all those scars and that one yellow eye, just looking straight at her. They seemed almost normal, but she didn't have to look twice to know that they were sent by Eszett._

 _Suddenly, she felt her body move by itself, and walk up towards the pair, her surprised looks lost on everyone. She tried to resist the pull, but to no avail, no matter how hard she tried. She arrived at the table, and was greeted by another silent message._

 _/Erstaunlich Fraülein! Well done indeed! You are surprisingly resistant! Eszett should be sad to loose such a precious toy.../_

 _\- You are Rosenkreuz's experiments, aren't you? I haven't had the pleasure of meeting any of your type yet, although I have heard much about you._

 _\- And cool, calm and collected as well... You are indeed faithful to your British upbringing, aren't you? Take a last cigarette...you're going to need it... And tell us Fraülein...what was that vital information you were so anxious to bring to Kritiker?_

 _The German's eyes glittered as he studied the woman in front of him, and Farfarello knew he was worming into the woman's mind with all the delicacy of rose-petals._

 _\- I would die rather than give it to you! stammered the agent._

 _\- You're going to die anyway... I could take it from you by force, but it's so much more interesting to have the person tell it himself... Who_ knows _, I could even let you go._

 _Farfarello glanced away from the empty patch of space he was looking at, and rested his gaze on Schuldig. But the telepath hadn't finished yet, and sat there, with a demonic grin._

 _\- What about it Leibling? purred the telepath._

 _\- Get out of my head! screamed the woman, before taking a gun out of her pocket with lightening speed._

 _She shot wildly around, before suddenly freezing and crumpling to the floor. The shots went unnoticed in the noisy airport, and Schuldig finished his coffee with natural calm, not even giving the dead body at his feet a second look._

 _\- What a waste. I might really have let her live... Right, time to go Farfy... Let's give our report to Mr Stick-the-size-of-Texas... Farfy?_

 _But Farfarello wasn't listening. He was looking dumbly at the three large holes in his chest, before falling to the floor in silence._

 _  
_

ooOOoo

 

 _Blurry...why so blurry...? Eyes...don't open...why not?_

 _/Can you hear me?/_

 _Try to remember...What to remember?_

 _/Wake up Jei! Jei...?/_

 _Who's Jei...?_

 _/ I said wake up! Look at me Jei!/_

 _Why...why can't I see...? Why can't I move?_

 _/Hang in there! I'm coming/_

 _I know that voice...who is it? Is it...Jei? No...Jei is dead... Who am I?_

 _/Götterdam Farfy, wake up!/_

 _Farfy...? Farfy. Farfarello! I am Farfarello!_

 _The golden eye shot open and took in everything around him. White walls...and he was strapped to an operating table..._

 _/Wait! Wait, don't go ravaging everything! It's a hospital Farfy/ It's all right, it's a hospital... You're safe._

 _Schuldig came into vision, his face tired and stretched._

 _\- How are you feeling?_

 _\- Like a person who's just had three bullets in his chest, why?_

 _Schuldig tried to laugh at that, but didn't manage to sound quite natural. He came over and undid the straps that held Farfarello down, and when the Irishman sat up, he could see a couple of bodies strewn across the floor. He also inspected himself, and saw three large scars, covered with sterile bands._

 _\- I figured...one more or one less..., came the German's comment._

 _\- Since when do you know anything about surgery? I doubt you needed that in Rosenkreuz._

 _\- I didn't...but these very nice people helped sew you back up._

 _\- Did they even live to see you come in?_

 _\- Just about._

 _Silence fell on the pair. Farfarello looked around for his clothes, but as he tried to get up, he lurched and held himself on Schuldig's arm._

 _\- Steady Farfy... you've been unconscious for three days...sit and I'll get you something to eat. Here...like that you won't drop dead again before I come back._

 _Schuldig threw a pile of clothes over to the Irishman and grinned as he walked out of the room, but once again, his smile seemed fake._

 _Left alone, Farfarello considered his situation. Three days? An important organ must have been hit, or seriously touched... His heart? That seemed the most likely explanation ... He looked around and noticed the peeling walls and the flaking ceiling...not very hospital-like. An unused room rapidly patched up to accomodate a secret patient? Most probably. All the medical equipment he could see was brand new though... Brought down from the ER? Most likely. Schuldig? Certainly..._

 _A thought reached him... Had Schuldig been here with him for all that time? His gaze fell on the telepath's phone lying carelessly on the floor. He picked it up and saw the silently flashing light. Three days' worth of calls from Crawford, if the caller ID "Stick-in-the-ass man" was correct... No sign of food-wrappers either, or anything that could indicate that someone had been here for a long length of time._

 _The sound of footsteps coming back made him turn, and sure enough the telepath appeared in the doorway, a chocolate bar hanging out of his mouth._

 _\- I hate hospitals... Eat up Farfy, I've brought enough to patch you up before we can go and find something that can actually be called food..., he said, dropping on the floor a pile of chocolate, cereal bars, sweets, cakes and drinks of all description._

 _\- Who's paying for all of this?_

 _\- I can be very persuasive, remember?_

 _Farfarello just looked at Schuldig, sitting on the table, stuffing his face full, and words he had never said before crossed his lips._

 _\- Thank you._

 _Those two simple words stopped the German in his tracks, and he slowly put his food down._

 _\- What are you talking about? It's my fault you came here in the first place._

 _\- You could have just brought me back to Crawford; you didn't have to go through all of this... , replied Farfarello, studying the telepath's grey face before turning his attention to the cereal bars in front of him._

 _\- I couldn't just leave you bleeding and not try and clean you up... No-one noticed us in the airport, so I dragged you out and I went to the closest hospital. Of course, no way would I let them get their hands on you by themselves... I doubt they need to be aware of our little...differerences... If any of these nice people so much as suspected your rapid healing, you'd be back in a laboratory...So, with a bit of "help" from a few nurses, I got all this down here, and a surgeon was enough to get the bullets out of you and repair what was going wrong._

 _\- You haven't eaten or slept since we've been here, have you?_

 _\- I..._

 _\- You don't trust anyone, do you? Schu..._

 _/I trust you.../  
_

 _Farfarello looked up at that mental answer, but his suspiscious glance was lost on the telepath: Schuldig was curled over on the former operating table, his sea-green hair flowing over the white sheets, his eyes closed, finally vanquished by sleep. Farfarello looked at the still figure in front of him for a long while, before getting the telepath's long bottle-green coat and draping it over him. And as he just stood there looking, it suddenly made sense._

 _He cared about Schuldig. He cared about him a lot. From the first day he had set eyes on the telepath, he had cared. He had cared about that teary-eyed teenager in the brothel, he cared about the provacative, devil-may-care and flamboyant member of Schwartz, and he cared about the sleeping, innocent-looking and vunerable man in front of him. No-one else would have made him feel for them, not Crawford, not Nagi, no-one in Farfarello's restraint circle of aquaintances. No-one else could make him laugh, no-one else could talk to him as if he were normal; no-one else could make him feel...sane. And just for that, he cared._


	6. Chapter 6

Schuldig woke up in the darkness of his bedroom, shivering even with the blanket over him. Where was he? Oh yes...this was his room all right. The same posters, the same tacky wallpaper he really would have to get Nagi to replace one day, the same pile of pills on the bedside table... Wait a minute...the bedside table... Where was his gun? He sat up suddenly and fell back onto the bed, wincing at the way his head was turning. What the hell had happened?

The telepath sat up again, making sure he didn't move too quickly, and began to think. What had happened? He couldn't quite remember, and it worried him... Why was he here anyway? Ah... _Him_. He had met Karl Heintz again, after all those years in Rosenkreuz...he had remembered...things he had tried to forget, or at least to keep in a part of his mind he never went, and he had told everything to Farfarello. Farfarello...Farfy?

Where was Farfy anyway? He had to have been the one to put him to bed, but where was he now? A flash of suspiscion clawed at the German, and he walked out of the room, before beating at Nagi's door.

Nagi tore himself away from the computer as loud knocking interrupted his chat. He opened the door, and was greeted by Schuldig, looking more than annoyed.

\- I suppose wondering if I was asleep or not was out of the question... And put something on Schuldig, I didn't intend to ever see that much of you.

\- _Götterdam_ with that Nagi... Where's Farfy?

\- Why?

\- Just tell me.

\- He left half an hour ago.

\- _Scheisse!_

\- You look worried...anything wrong ?

At that, Schuldig grinned his usual cat-like smile, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.

\- Worried? Don't be stupid...I just don't want Farfy to have fun without me... Tchüss... Nagi-kun.

And with that, Schuldig walked back towards his room, leaving Nagi in the doorway. And before long, the teenager heard the front door open and close, and turned back towards his computer.

 

ooOOoo

 

Back at the Metro hotel, Karl Heintz was still desperately trying to remember. It was getting hard, he had to admit; every inch of his skin was torn and bloody, and at least five of his fingers were broken. He tried to shift position slightly, to ease the pain in his ribs, but as soon as he moved, a metal-toed boot connected with his chest again, and Karl screamed. He was getting hoarse and it was surprising he was still conscious.

\- I said no. Ye'll move when I say so... But ye like it like that, don't ye?

Farfarello was nowhere near tired of his game, he had more reason than usually to see it to the end. But none the less, it annoyed him that Karl was so slow...maybe he would have to break his toes as well... And if there was no other choice, he would have to pull out the needles.

\- Ye're getting low on ribs. Another three and I'll start on the other side.

\- Please...Please, God, burbled Karl.

\- I'm getting tired of seeing ye ask for mercy, especially from God. God saves no-one.

Down came the boot again, and Karl's nose exploded from the impact. Farfarello observed the scene with a neutral face; it was an almost repulsive sight, this bound, naked, fat man, crying for salvation in the face of certain death. It was worth letting him know. The game would change, but Farfarello's patience had limits.

He noticed that Karl was mouthing words and he recognised a desperate "Hail Mary".

\- So ye have prepared yourself for death. Ye no longer fear it's coming... So maybe it is time for me to shake ye loose of this mortal coil. Then ye will know for sure that there is no God.

Karl looked up at the level golden stare.

\- Why? he asked in a shaky voice.

\- Would ye like me to tell ye a tale? When I'll be finished, ye'll be dead.

Karl stared, transfixed, as Farfarello started to speak.

\- It all begins in Germany, in Rosenkreuz, where specimens wait to be tested for the glory of the Leaders. These specimens are human beings, but each one with special powers that sets them apart from the rest of humanity. There are different types of specimens, those who can read minds, those who can predict the future, those who can possess the bodies of others, those who can use their minds to move objects or to project themselves out of their bodies. And there are those who seem immune to pain. I am one of these... Berserker.

At that, Karl's eyes lit up. Berserker...he had often heard that name around Rosenkreuz, linked to some of the toughest training the scientists could think of. Why was such a _freak_ here?

\- I can see that ye have heard of me. Listen to the rest. In Rosenkreuz, ye spent most of your time in the brothel...and there, ye frequently abused a teenage boy. Does this help you to remember?

Karl's eyes shot open at that, and he tried to speak, but Farfarello's hand clamped his mouth shut, his level golden stare boring deep into Karl's eyes.

\- Ye will listen to the rest of this tale. Ye abused this boy for years until he was released from the brothel and from ye. What were it like Karl? What did it feel like, to thrust and hit, to force him to swallow yer come and worse? Ye'd better think of something pleasant swiftly; that boy is strong enough to be your worst nightmare, and I'm sure ye'd rather die with a smile on ye face than a screaming grimace.

\- Don't kill him just yet Farfy... I might just settle for the screaming grimace...


	7. Chapter 7

Farfarello turned around at that familiar nasal voice, and sure enough, Schuldig was in the doorway, looking at the scene with mild interest. The Irishman walked over to him, a questioning look in his eye, and was answered with a smile and a nod. Karl suddenly burst out laughing; no matter how much his ribs hurt him, or how how his head swirled, he laughed.

\- Am I seeing this right? You love him? _Lieber Himmel!_ Berserker! You've gone through all this trouble, you've threatened and tortured me...and for what! For this slut! For this whore who would fuck anyone for a pill or a few coins! And you love him!

Karl kept laughing, caring not at all for the pain, or the way he coughed blood as he laughed, or for the looks the two Schwartz gave him.

\- Be realistic, you really think he loves you? Once a whore, always a whore; he'll fuck you and leave you as soon as he finds someone richer! Isn't that true? _Du bist nichts als ein Strichjunge, Schuldig! Ist das nicht richtig_?

Farfarello could feel the telepath's body tensing up, and he protectively pressed his hand against Schuldig's back.

\- You can kill me Berserker, but that won't change anything. We all know that you're just a passing fling to this bitch! Why don't you...

Karl's mouth shut by itself and with such force, that he could feel teeth crack, and he treid to scream, straining against his sealed mouth. Schuldig walked away from the door, a long knife in his hand and sat down on the bed. He lounged next to the naked man, and started to run his fingers over his chest, nails as red as the blood that ran from the many gouges. And when he spoke, his voice was almost dreamlike.

\- Karl... _mein Liebling_... How the wheel turns...I seem to remember being in almost this very same position not so long ago... No, don't try to talk, you've said enough, and I'm surprised Farfy hasn't killed you just for the sake of his ears.

Schuldig was carelessly running his hands over the bleeding cuts that ciscrossed Karl's chest, and playing with the knife he held, almost enthralled by its glow.

\- But you see _Liebling_ , I'm no longer the helpless slut you shagged night after night, I'm the most powerful telepath ever to walk this earth... Do give the Devil my regards when you meet him... _Auf Wiedersehen, mein Herz..._

The stream of blood from the cut jugular vein covered the opposite wall in a carpet of red roses.

 

ooOOoo

 

Three shadows crept up the stairs towards a distant room, their intentions very clear. They reached the turn in the corridor and started down the last few metres.

\- Omi, how are we doing for security?

\- _You're doing fine Ken-kun... The next round is in ten minutes_.

\- We won't fail this mission.

\- Cool Aya! This is going to be a piece of cake! And for this I get to loose a good night's sleep...it's a crime to all womanhood.

\- _What about me, Youji-kun? You guys could take your share of the computer work for once!_

\- Why? You don't need sleep Omi!

\- Quiet! The target is in sight. Weiss...prepare to execute the mission.

The three Weiss flattened themselves against the wall, readying their weapons, waiting for the right moment...when the door opened.

\- Yes, we already know..."Schwartz _, die"_... Please Abyssinian, don't you have anything else in that head of yours? And Siberian, Balinese, don't try and jump me, Farfy might want to join in.

The Weiss just stared as Farfarello and Schuldig walked calmly out of the suite, and closed the door behind them.

\- What? Why are you looking so surprised? Aren't we allowed to visit old friends in between trying to conquer the world? grinned the telepath.

\- If you are searching for Karl Heintz, you have arrived a little late. His blood is staining the walls inside..., continued Farfarello.

\- Turning against your leaders now, are you Schwartz? growled Aya, holding his katana tighter.

\- I don't buy it! It's a trap!

\- Siberian, you really are just a simple creature... Do go in if you need more proof than Farfy's blood-covered clothes..., sighed Schuldig.

Youji gave the two Schwartz a long look, before marching into the suite, and coming out again just as fast.

\- The guy's definately dead Aya, nothing we can do here.

-Understood. Omi, we're coming back.

- _What happened? Is everything ok?_

\- We ran into some old friends and there's no point in continuing the misson, continued Youji, casting a wary look at the two Schwartz.

\- Ok, see you back at headquarters.

The Weiss backed out towards the emergency exit, and started to walk back down, before Aya turned back.

\- I don't know what use his death was to Eszett, but I will find out.

And then the Weiss were gone.

 

ooOOoo

 

Freesia -> Sorry about that, had 2 decon 4 a bit

 _ProdigalChylde - > Everything's ok, I hope._

Freesia -> I'll have 2 exit in a bit, the others r coming back earlier than Xpected

 _ProdigalChylde - > They finished quickly!_

Freesia -> They ran in2 ur friends apparently...what were they doing at the Metro hotel?

 _ProdigalChylde - > Your target was Karl Heintz?_

Freesia -> U knew him? He was in SS...wasn't he ur superior?

 _Prodigalchylde - > No._

Freesia -> So what were Schu and Farfy doing there?

 _ProdigalChylde - > Remember that strange thing Farfarello was doing? It was asking me where Karl Heintz was. It was in connexion with Rosenkreuz and Schuldig. My guess is that Karl died a VERY painful death..._

 _  
_

ooOOoo

 

\- Well, now that that's over...what do we do now?

Farfarello looked for a while at his emerald-haired lover, and laughed lowly.

-What's so funny? Or have you really gone as mad as they think you are?

\- Welcome back...I was beginning to worry about you.

\- Worry? About me? Whatever for?

Farfarello walked up the telepath, and looked him straight in the face.

\- Don't ever do that again to me Schu.

\- I can't say I chose the situation!

Schuldig merely slung his arm around Farfarello's neck, and the two of them started walking down the corridor, until Schuldig broke the silence.

\- If it can make you any happier, I promise I'll never cry or look miserable again...does that suit you?

\- You can't promise me that, no more than I can promise you that I'll stop wanting to hurt God. You _are_ tears Schuldig...guilty tears. But the guilty one isn't who's crying...

\- Is this going to be a sermon, father?

But the ironic tone didn't fool Farfarello, and Schuldig knew it; he couldn't lie to the Irishman, he couldn't ignore what he was saying, and he couldn't hide anything from him either.

\- I probably won't be able to make you stop seeing tears when you think of me, but I can at least make you forget it.

\- And you've thought of a way, I suppose.

The German's grin was a clear answer.

\- I can think of a lot of ways...but you'll get to choose...Shall we go and find a more pleasant place to spend the rest of the night?

\- We have a meeting tomorrow, or had you forgotten?

\- Brad and Nagi'll have to take care of that. I don't think we'll be able to make it _mein Liebling_... We're going to be very tired...

And with those promising words, the two walked out of the Metro hotel, and into Tokyo's streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and "du bist nichts als ein Strichjunge,Schuldig! Ist das nicht richtig?" "You're nothing but a whore, Schuldig! Isn't that right?"   
> Yeay...my german lessons actually came in useful!


End file.
